


A New Start

by Dream_Wreaver



Series: Bridging the Gap [3]
Category: Beetlejuice (TV 1989), Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Other, Swearing, sexual innuendo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 10:16:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20190646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dream_Wreaver/pseuds/Dream_Wreaver
Summary: So comes the last day of summer, and school begins anew. But this time, Lydia's got a demon on her side.





	A New Start

**Author's Note:**

> This one... got away from me. Hope you enjoy it regardless

“Well,” Lydia Deetz said as she closed the door to her bedroom and looked at the demon, ghost, dead guy currently hovering a few feet off the ground, “That… couldn’t have gone any worse,” she swung her hands around, gesturing harshly at nothing, “I mean really, that was,” whistled lowly, “that was a disaster.”

“I try my best,” Beetlejuice said as he buffed his black nails against his filthy coat, laying back and reclining on nothing like it was the most luxurious thing to lay on.

“So tell me,” Lydia said as she sat on her bed, “Does the thought process ever occur to you that like,” and here she made a rather comical attempt at imitating his voice, “Hey, maybe if I stop being so disgusting and clingy, people will stop leaving me,” and here her voice went back to normal, “Or does that not… is that not a thing that happens up there?”

Beetlejuice snorted. Which was about as much of an answer as Lydia expected she’d get. He was rarely repentant for anything. And when she said rarely, she meant almost never. Technically, he’d never even apologized for everything he’d done six months ago. Dinner had been one scream after another, and while Lydia had found it all quite humorous all things considered, the others -all of them  _ except _ Lydia having been victim to the demon’s antics- did not. Animating food, possessing people, thank goodness it had only been just them.

“Kid, I’m a demon, I don’t do self-reflection when I’m an embodiment of vice.”

“With the juvenile frat boy’s temperament to match,” Lydia rolled her eyed. Beetlejuice stopped reclining long enough to open for a retort, when the door to the bedroom opened instead.

In poked Adam, but it didn’t go unnoticed that he only stuck his head in and was using as much of the door as he could manage to cover himself. Lydia honestly didn’t blame him, since poor Adam had been on the receiving end of the brunt of Beetlejuice’s more sexually charged antics, both back then and earlier this evening. Naturally, it was all in “good” fun, because of that dammed fidelity clause, but Adam was by his own admission not very good with people and never had been. And Beetlejuice wasn’t exactly the sort that even those incredibly good with people would likely be able to handle. Though… since he was a ghost why he didn’t simply stick his head through the door was beyond her.

“Hey Lydia,” he greeted, “You,” he added in deference to Beetlejuice. Typical Adam, couldn’t  _ not _ be polite even if he tried, “Just remember, your father has an open door policy when it comes to… um…”

“Yes I know, it’s open door when boys are in the house. Though, considering he literally  _ can’t _ touch me, I don’t really see what you guys are worried about.”

“Believe me when I say he is a master of finding and abusing loopholes Lydia, just, please don’t fight with us on this,” Adam’s eyes were beseeching.

Lydia gave a (mostly) exaggerated sigh, “Alright Adam,”

“Thanks sweetheart,” and with that he ducked out, leaving the door wide open behind him.

“He’s such a dad, isn’t he?” Beetlejuice asked.

“More than my own father sometimes,” Lydia remarked, “That bother you Mister Daddy Issues?”

“Now I get it,” Beetlejuice remarked, “It’s dad sexiness he exudes.”

Lydia blinked, “I’m sorry… what?”

“You know how there’s like… different types of sexy for different types of, well in your case breathers?”

“Like what?” she tilted her head at him, confused but then again she was fifteen. Usually this was about the time that a mother would help explain things. And Lydia, well Lydia had Delia, and Barbara.

“Like… there’s the cool and mysterious sexy, the dangerous bad type sexy, and the secret freak sexy,” Beetlejuice explained, “Adam is like… the hot dad of your best friend type of sexy.”

Lydia stared at him a moment, mouth set in a straight line, “God you’re weird.”

“You’re weirder,”

“I seriously doubt it.”

“Yeah, me too,” Beetlejuice laughed, dropping down to join her on the bed, “But finding a hot guy hot isn’t that weird I would think.”

“Do you find everyone hot?”

“Do you?”

“I haven’t exactly had the time to explore my sexuality this past year,” Lydia remarked, “And you?”

“Six centuries, give or take,” Beetlejuice shrugged, “You really don’t care after a while, especially if you’re like me and only there for a good time, not a long one.”

“So you’re pansexual?”

“What does that mean?”

“You know about Yelp but not pansexuality?” Lydia raised a brow at him, “How long have you been stuck in this world, invisible to pretty much everyone?”

“I don’t exactly stick around all the time Lyds,” Beetlejuice narrowed one eye at her as he folded his arms, “Sometimes I’d go back to the land of the dead.”

“Was that another point of contention between you and mother fearest?”

“Everything between me and my mother is a point of contention, but tell me more about pansexuality.”

“It just means you’re attracted to multiple types of gender identities, it’s really not that complicated.”

“Then why does it need a name?”

“Because most people aren’t comfortable when things aren’t named? I don’t know, do I look like a psychologist to you?”

“Not with that attitude you don’t,” he snapped his fingers and suddenly her bed was one of those therapy couches, she was sitting in a high back leather chair with a notepad and pen in hand. And where was Beetlejuice, on the couch with one arm slung over his forehead,

“You know, I think it all started when my father walked out on us…”

“Very funny,” Lydia remarked without any humor, “Put my room back the way it was now.”

“Sheesh, you got any sense of humor?”

“I think we have three days of companionable pranking in our memories that should answer your question quite nicely,” Lydia quipped as she was suddenly sitting back on her bed, with Beetlejuice’s head in her lap. Gross. She shoved him off of her and he was on the floor. He made a sound of pain, but since he was dead all he was really feeling was the impact. Probably.

“You know, you being a bitch is only fun when it’s someone  _ else _ on the receiving end of it babes,” he grumbled as he sat up, rubbing his head.

“Well, if you keep hanging around long enough I’m sure you’ll get to see plenty of it,” Lydia remarked, “Especially starting tomorrow,”

“What happens tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is my first day of school,” Lydia remarked, “Well, first  _ official _ day anyways.”

“School, yuck, what do you really learn in school anyways?” Beetlejuice asked after gagging, “And wait a minute, shouldn’t you have been in school this whole time? I feel like that’s a thing humans do isn’t it? Send their brats off to be looked after by someone else for like… most of the year?”

“Right after…” Lydia hesitated a second, “Right after we lost mom, I… I wasn’t doing so well in school. So Dad decided it would be best if I finished the year online. But now he wants me to get some more 'interpersonal contact’,” she put the words in air quotations, “Says I need to start hanging around with more people than my parents and the dead. So, I got enrolled in Miss Shannon’s School for Girls.”

“An all girl school huh?” Beetlejuice remarked, “Well  _ that _ ought to be sexually educational.”

“You just want to see me make out with another girl, don’t you?”

“If it’s for the sake of figuring out what your deal is, I’m sure I won’t feel like you cheated on me,” Beetlejuice was trying for sincere, but the problem was his big smarmy smile as he was likely picturing the scenario in his head even as he spoke, “I don’t think the fidelity clause has anything against simply making out.”

“Nice to know you care,” Lydia rolled her eyes, “But I seriously doubt I would want to do anything like that with the girls I’ve had the misfortune of meeting so far.”

“Oh yeah?” he seemed interested, rejoining her on the bed with one leg resting on his knee,“Well, don’t hold out on me here; give me the deets, Deetz,”

Lydia sighed, “I had to go with dad to drop off some paperwork towards the end of their school year. And I met what looked like a bottle blonde and her friends, both equally as plastic as her.”

“Really now?”

“Apparently this is a popular place in the middle of nowhere for less urban rich people to live,” Lydia shrugged, “No wonder this house cost my dad as much as it did, and that was  _ before _ the redecoration project.”

“Welp,” Beetlejuice shrugged, “Shows most rich people really don't have a sense of what to do with all the cash they've got.”

“Oh?” Lydia asked, “And what would  _ you _ do if you had obscene amounts of money?”

“Who's saying I don't?” Beetlejuice asked in reply.

“Please,” Lydia scoffed, “A bum around sleaze like you who doesn't even have a job? Yeah, I buy that.”

“Harsh,” Beetlejuice remarked, “Y’know, if I wanted to have someone get on my back about every little thing I'd give my mom a call.”

“Does it work the same way?” Lydia wondered, getting an evil idea, “Juno, Juno, Juno!”

“No!” Beetlejuice covered her mouth with his hands, “Don’t go calling her. You really want to die? Believe me, mom’s a demon, but she’s an even worse one when you bother her while she’s resting.”

“Mmph,” Lydia replied, wiping her mouth off with disgust when he actually let go, “What do you mean by that?”

“The last time I bothered her while she was trying to rest, she had me dismembered,” Beetlejuice paused a moment, “Yeah, that’s how bad she is.”

Lydia peered at him, “Who the hell are you talking to?” she asked as she followed his line of sight. It appeared that he was simply staring at the wall.

“The Fourth Wall Babes,” he replied, “I feel like our first venture was successful enough to make a spin off series. But back to your boring mortal problems, what’s up with this bottle blonde bitch and her little bitchlings that’s got your panties in a twist?”

“Well, let’s see,” Lydia thought back to that day close to the beginning of summer, “I opened the door to leave with the rest of the paperwork that they  _ insisted _ be submitted via hard copy instead of through email and she bumped into me. My papers went flying and yet she had the balls to be mad at me for,” and yet again she attempted some vocal imitation, “‘Like, you almost broke my nail you like, vampiric freak!’ and then, her cronies all giggled.”

Beetlejuice whistled lowly, “Sounds like a real piece of work, was she hot?”

“Only if you find plastic mannequins hot,” Lydia remarked, “Which knowing you, you probably do.”

“Please kid,” Beetlejuice scoffed, “Ever since that stupid marriage, not even a lump of moldy cheese would look hot to me.”

“Serves you right,”

“And serves  _ you _ right if my type ends up becoming suicidally depressed little goth chicks,”

“Please,” Lydia rolled her eyes, “You’d sooner fuck yourself,”

“That can be arranged, if you’d like to watch,” he leered, laughing when she made an exaggerated gagging sound, “Now come on kid, why are you letting a little bitch like that get you down?”

“Because I know what that sort of girl entails. She’s deluded herself into thinking she’s the most popular girl there, even if everyone outside of her two flunkies hates her guts, but she’s got enough access to daddy’s money to do whatever the hell she likes with very few repercussions coming her way. And because I messed with her, I can imagine she’ll be taking out every bit of petty revenge she can on me for the next eight to nine months. And dad wants me to make friends,” Lydia rolled her eyes again, “Yeah, sure I’m gonna have lots of luck doing that now.”

“You sure an airhead like that’s even gonna remember you? I mean if she’s got her nose stuck so high in the clouds and all.”

“You should know already that people like that love having a scapegoat around. And those scapegoats are usually people like me.”

“Yeah… bout that,” Beetlejuice drawled, “Been wondering why you’re still in black, I mean if you solved all your mommy issues.”

“Technically I haven’t solved  _ all  _ of them,” Lydia corrected, “But I’m not wearing black because I’m in mourning anymore. I just… I don’t know, I like black? What’s with the stripes and colored hair?”

“Touche,”

“You do know that doesn’t actually mean to touch someone right?” Lydia asked as she noticed his arm wrapped around her, “Gods above and below, you’re so clingy.”

“Babes, I’m not allowed to touch you in any other way except platonically. Let me take what I can get,” Beetlejuice argued, “Besides, you know that if you really didn’t want me here there are one of several things you could do.”

“Yeah, I  _ know _ ,” Lydia sighed, “But forgive me if I wouldn’t be surprised to find out you get off on electric shocks, and like I told you earlier; the last thing I want is a peeping tom in my mirror. As much of a pest as you might be, I prefer when I can keep an eye on you.”

“Good Lord,” Beetlejuice groaned, flopping back on her bed, “You really  _ are _ gonna be a short leash on me, aren’t you?”

“To quote your mother, next time; read the fine print you dope,” Lydia smiled, “Now as much as I would love for you to stay here and talk into the night,” he gave a small laugh at her sarcastic tone, “I  _ do _ in fact have school tomorrow. So Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, be a doll and see yourself out, okay?”

“What, you’re not actually gonna send me back?” he seemed genuinely surprised by that fact, having already prepared to see the dingy darkness of his place at the roadhouse he usually occupied when he was out and about in the land of the dead.

“Do you want me to?” she asked, all batting eyes and faux innocence, “Because believe me, that can be arranged. And so can a blanket over my mirror.”

“I’m just surprised is all,” Beetlejuice remarked, “You said you needed time.”

“My therapist said development takes two major things. Time, and trust. I’m trusting you not to overstep your bounds when I give you the option to see yourself out. Time to see if I need to revoke that.”

Beetlejuice stared at her a long moment and sighed, “Look Babes, you might as well just send me back.” Lydia opened her mouth, likely to ask if he was being honest with her. Honesty gave him hives, but if he was going to be stuck in this relationship for the foreseeable future he might as well make a small effort, “Believe me, I hate saying this. I really do. But, you want honesty and trust right?” he had to refrain from gagging as the words came out of my mouth, “So… being - _ honest _ , if I’m not gonna be in here bothering you all night, I’ll definitely be harassing Babs and Adam.”

“Wow…” she seemed to be impressed. He felt dirty, dirtier than he did when pulling a con, “I appreciate the honest but… Why? I mean, why bother bothering them?” Lydia asked through a yawn, “We both know that fidelity clause keeps you in line.”

“Because it’s funny?” Beetlejuice offered, “let’s be real honest kid, there’s nothing more gratifying than scaring the shit out of people with sticks up their asses. Now, this whole ordeal six months ago may have  _ loosened _ those sticks. But believe me when I say they’re still in there.”

“Ugh, and that has officially put me past my grossed out limit for the evening. Goodnight Beetlejuice.” she paused, “Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice.”

And back he was. Back in the uncomfortable yawning emptiness of the weird and wonderful Neitherworld. Not that it was so wonderful for him. But as he turned his gaze towards his mirror, he noticed that Lydia didn’t keep good on her promise to cover up the looking glass. Instead, she merely took her nightclothes, and headed out the door. Pity, seemed as though her mirror was the only one his was connected to. But, he’d dealt with boredom before, staring at the wall was tons of fun if you had lost your mind years ago. And lucky for him, that was exactly what had happened.

BJ BJ BJ

Lydia woke the next morning with the realization that she’d been so tired after talking with Beetlejuice she hadn’t even covered up her mirror last night. Oh well, what had happened had happened, there was nothing that could be done now. She would just have to be more diligent about it from now on. But, given her mirror didn’t look any different she was going to hazard a guess that he was busy doing something else. Still, she was probably going to ask her father to buy her a changing screen in the next couple of days. Because she knew that there were bound to be some days where she was too tired to remember that could take up unseen residence in her room. It might not stop him completely, but it would at least make everyone involved feel better. Lydia sighed, time to face the horrors of an all female high school. With a groan, she rolled out of bed, wrangled her uniform off of its hanger and headed to the bathroom. After getting dressed she took one look at herself and decided that, no, this needed a little alteration. She rummaged through her drawers in her room and found a serviceable black skirt which she tugged on under the uniform’s. Feeling a lot better with the extra layers and length she went to her mirror to brush her hair.

“Morning kid,” Beetlejuice greeted her instead of her reflection, “Don’t you look like something that just rolled out of the grave?”

“Was that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?” Lydia asked sardonically as she grabbed a brush and tugged it through her locks in a haphazard manner. Barbara and Delia were always saying she should at least brush it if she was going to keep it so short. And considering she’d let her head grow out to shoulder length in the intervening months, that was saying something. On a whim, she grabbed an elastic and separated the top half of her hair into a small ponytail. There, now they couldn’t say she hadn’t tried.

“Hmm…” Beetlejuice mused as she tended to herself, “How about it’s whatever gets me in the least amount of trouble with you. You know what they say; happy wife, happy afterlife.”

“I’m decently sure that’s  _ not _ how that saying goes BJ,” Lydia retorted, “But the deference to me is rather enjoyable. Keep this up and I might even let you out sooner than a few weeks.”

“Or, and this is just a thought here, you could let me out now and instead of wasting your time at some dumb school, we could go and have some fun instead.”

“And where would we go?” Lydia asked, “I’m not exactly convinced I can trust you enough to take me to the Neitherworld just yet. And there isn’t any place in this town that’s any real fun for playing hooky. Well, except maybe the graveyard.”

“And why not go to the graveyard?” Beetlejuice encouraged, settling himself in the glass like it was a reclining seat, “Hell, you got a camera don’t you?”

“I take enough photos of tombstones. It was my favorite subject even before-” she caught herself, “For years. I used to go to the graveyard with my mom and we’d read the epitaphs, looking for the most interesting, or gaudy, graves.” Lydia sighed, “No, I’m not ready for that, or to hear you rip on my mom for several hours.”

“Hey, hey, look,” Beetlejuice leaned his forehead against the glass, “Your mom never did nothing wrong to me. If you don’t wanna talk about her, that’s fine. Put that in the contract for all I care.”

“Why are you being so considerate?” Lydia asked, skepticism evident in her tone, posture, and expression.

“You said it yourself kid,” Beetlejuice replied, “Eternity is a hell of a long time to spend together. And since you’ve got the undead’s power at your fingertips, you’re gonna have one hell of a long life. I didn’t have it right that first time around, we weren’t really friends…”

“N-” Lydia began seeing his forlorn expression, “No, we were. I… I felt bad for you, you know. I can’t imagine what it feels like to be invisible for centuries. To be so close to something and never be able to reach it. I’m still mad at you for how you went about it, but I guess that kind of loneliness would drive just about anyone insane. We can be… friends. But like I said, let’s start small.” she heard a call from downstairs, “I should eat something before heading into hell.”

“Kid, you’ve  _ actually _ been to Hell. And you basically told my mom to go fuck herself, impressive by the way. How is this even remotely going to compare?”

“Teenagers,” Lydia spat out the world, “More specifically, bitchy female teenagers.”

“Aww, don’t you believe in gender equality Lyds?” Beetlejuice asked, “Men can be just as bitchy.”

“I know,” Lydia replied, “I’ve interacted with you before haven’t I?”

“Ouch,” Beetlejuice replied, clutching at his chest theatrically, “Your words are like arrows, right to the heart babes.” this sentence was followed by the sound of something swift hitting something soft and fleshy. Repeatedly. Lydia looked back to find Beetlejuice still in her mirror, with arrows sticking out of his body. And he looked just as surprised as she was.

“What the hell was that?” she asked as he frowned and snapped a finger. In a puff of smoke, he was back to relative abnormality.

“I don’t know,” Beetlejuice replied, “Was that supposed to be a visual gag? It doesn’t exactly work as well when it’s in written format.”

Lydia rolled her eyes again, “Well, while you go figure that out, I’m gonna get some grub.”

“Good idea Lyds,” he agreed, “I think there’s one outside in my garden.”

And with that he was gone. Lydia sighed in bemusement and headed downstairs. Thankfully, Barbara was the one helping Delia cook this morning, so the meal would turn out at least halfway decent. According to the Maitlands, the worst part about being recently deceased was the fact that they couldn’t exactly interact with the living world as well as they used to. Sure, they could pick up and manipulate objects, but it apparently took a great deal of concentration. And one minor distraction often led to bigger messes than intended. So they allowed the living to cook under their direction. Adam and Barbara may have been as basic as a white girl in Uggs, but at least they knew how to cook a meal. Lydia ate her breakfast and grabbed her backpack. Heading out to get her bike so she could ride to school. Charles had offered to drive her, but Lydia countered with the fact that in less than a year’s time she’d be getting her license and learning to drive herself. Might as well get used to the route now.

Besides, riding to school on a sunny day like today was much better than an awkward and silent ride in the car with her father. Their relationship had slowly been on the mend, with the help of the therapist. Problem was, was that Lydia and Charles had never been as close as either had been with Emily. Emily had been like the glue that had once kept the Deetz family together, and everyone was still -a year later- trying to make the pieces fit together again. Time and trust, rang the words of her therapist, time and trust.

Miss Shannon’s School for Girls was a traditional school. The problem was that it housed a ton of more modern girls. Which meant preoccupation with cell phones at any given moment. Lydia had one, but Charles had said he’d be monitoring her phone activity. The goal of going to school instead of attending online was to make certain that Lydia made friends. Actual, real life friends. Who weren’t dead. But surprise, surprise, maybe Lydia should have played the lottery today, because her prediction from last night was on point. The bottle blonde bitch Claire Brewster as she found her name was, made it a point to make this first day of school more miserable than it could already be. And the day was only half over. It didn’t help that Lydia was a transfer and most of these girls had had a few years to get to know one another. She was eating lunch alone when she felt it. That disturbance in the balance of nature. She looked up and saw that a statue of the Virgin Mary had now had its face replaced with that of a demon.

“So,” Beetlejuice began, “How’s the first day of school been treating you?”

“I’m eating lunch by myself Beetlejuice,” Lydia replied, “How do you  _ think _ it’s going?”

“And this is why you should have skipped,” Beetlejuice said matter of factly. When she didn’t laugh, he tilted his head to the side, “Someone being a thorn in your side or something?”

“Claire Brewster,” Lydia muttered darkly.

“Well, if that ain’t a name that says ‘rich bitch’ I’ll take a bath.”

“You should, you smell terrible,” Lydia parried.

“Don’t push it babes,” Beetlejuice warned, “And you haven’t been able to make any friends so far?”

“Not with miss prissy and pink running around,” Lydia replied, “I think she spent the summer spreading rumors about me, because no one wants to come near me. Even if they  _ don’t _ seem to buy into her bullshit.”

“Well-” whatever he had been about to say was cut off by the sound of approaching footsteps. Beetlejuice quickly resumed the statue’s original posture and kept watch. Claire and her cronies strode into the secluded glade as if they owned the place, sneering when they caught sight of the newest student.

“Like, look girls,” Claire jeered, “It’s like, the bride of Dracula or whatever.”

“Don’t you have a bottle of spray tan to go apply?” Lydia asked curtly, just wanting to eat her meal in peace.

“Like, please,” Claire fluffed and tossed her blonde hair, “My daddy is rich enough to have us vacation in the Carribean every weekend. Is  _ your _ daddy that rich Lydia Deetz? Must not be, since I never see  _ you _ there.”

“You vacation in the Carribean  _ every weekend _ ?” Lydia asked, faking surprise and interest, “Well, no wonder your skin has the same consistency as a leather couch.”

Claire made a huffing sound while her bitchlings gasped in shock, “Like, you are  _ so _ gonna pay for that Lydia Deetz!”

“Can whatever you’re planning be worse than listening to your dated valley girl speak?” Lydia asked, “No wait, let me amend my statement, whatever you plan would  _ definitely _ be better than having to listen to listen to your voice for any extended period of time.”

Claire seethed, “Hope you like having no friends, Deetz,” she sneered, “I’m going to make you even more of a social outcast than you already are. Rest assured, I am like, so going to put you through hell.”

“Already been to hell, thanks very much,” Lydia dismissed the threat, “And met a demon. You’d like her, since she’s just as bitchy as you.”

“I think like, the real demon here is the reflection in your mirror,”

“You’d be right about that, but actually that demon is currently inside the statue right over there,” she pointed out Beetlejuice. But since Claire was -like most breathers- too self-absorbed to be supernaturally minded, all she saw was a weather worn statue.

“God you’re so weird!” Claire exclaimed, “Like, c’mon girls, we’ve got better places to be.”

“Like a plastic convention,” Lydia muttered as they sauntered away. Once they were gone and she was sure that she was relatively alone, she turned back to the statue, “So, not as bad as your mother, right?”

“Not even close, but a pest all the same,” Beetlejuice replied, “C’mon Lyds, let me out. I’ll scare her real good, she’ll never mess with you again.”

“You can’t,” Lydia informed him, “If you do something that causes her not to mess with me, I really won’t be able to make any friends.”

“Please,” Beetlejuice scoffed, “I bet most of ‘em would love being your friend if you were able to make her stop being such a little bitch.”

“Be that as it may, I for one am perfectly content with keeping all revenge fantasies  _ inside _ my head. Now, go home and find some other way to amuse yourself,”

“But Lydia,” Beetlejuice was begging, “Just let me out for a little bit. I won’t do any harm to anyone. You should have someone with you.”

“Right, and I’m sure that a School for Girls would be perfectly fine with having a sleazy old man hanging around.”

“Hey, who said anything about being a sleazy old man?”

“What?” Lydia reroted, “You gonna dress in drag? Like people would pay to see that,”

“People aren’t paying to see this now,” Beetlejuice pointed out, “But I think you underestimate what entertains people. C’mon Lydia, it’ll be fun. And you won’t be alone, or have anyone bothering you.”

“You promise no one’s gonna get hurt?”

“Maybe a little disgusted, but not hurt,” Beetlejuice promised, “On my honor, or lack thereof.”

Lydia hesitated, but relented, “Alright, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment and let me know what you thought. Thanks for reading, and I'll see you all next time


End file.
